


ABC's of Grelliam

by imonlyjoking



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Cute, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Randomness, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 13:45:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4831265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imonlyjoking/pseuds/imonlyjoking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Completely random moments comprised in short alphabetized one-shots of our dear Grell and William. Rated M just to be safe. Grelliam ftw!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A - D

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Fanfiction, but stupid me lost my password and email to the site -.- I know, right?
> 
> Please Note: Both William and Grell will be a little OOC, just a tad, only slightly, not very much.... okay, maybe enough to keep things naughty and oh-so fluffy. ;) Completely random moments comprised in short alphabetized one-shots. 
> 
> Disclaimer – Black Butler and its characters do not belong to me, but to Yana Toboso. This is simply fanmade, nothing more.
> 
> Soo~ I found this lovely site and wanted to post the rest of it here. :) enjoy everyone!

Adorable.

William could not deny that when Grell would do that scrunchy thing with his nose when he found something gross or moronic was quite possibly the cutest thing he ever saw.

And William T. Spears did not often find things cute.

The way that sharp pointed nose would crinkle in distaste, why, if he wasn't the kind of restrained man he was, he'd be tempted to say or do something odd to get that certain facial expression out of him.

But one day proved just too much for the raven haired administrator, and his restraint had left him to act upon a complete lack of self control.

They had been discussing a topic of soul collections and manicures; of how one could possibly not enjoy the harvesting of a fresh soul under a moonlit night while their frayed cuticles went unattended. Basic Grell babble, and from decades of experience, William learned to tune out the redhead's tangents while still keeping the illusion that he was listening to every word. This time, however, he found himself too infatuated with the small scowl on Grell's face, watching in silent delight when the topic of hangnails had stirred the red reaper into a disgusted rant, causing that scrunchy thing he did with his nose....

William simply couldn't help himself.

Soundlessly he stood from his chair and stepped around his desk to face his chatty subordinate. Placing both gloved hands on each of Grell's shoulders he ignored the shorter reaper's quizzical look and dipped down to place a quick chaste kiss on the tip of that sharp nose.

A stiff silence then, as both men stared at each other, one pair of eyes cool and complacent, the other wide and twinkling with utter shock.

“Will....”

“Adorable.” William said with a satisfied nod, and then as casual as day he strolled out of his office, leaving behind his red reaper to melt all over his office floor.

 

-:-

Blood.

The only time Grell ever saw William bleed was, contrary to suspicious belief, never while on the field or the workplace, never inflicted by an enraged soul or a demon, but by red manicured nails and razor sharp teeth.

And to Grell, that's how it bloody should be...no pun intended.

It was unarguably erotic to watch a small stream or two travel upon that pale well toned skin, the color he loved so much adorning the man he loved so much, the two together was...maddening. Such passion he felt! It would send him into a frenzy of wanton lust for the other man, wanting nothing more than to devour him with his overpowering need to bite, to feel, to throw them both into ecstasy. 

William covered in someone else's blood was even a hot sight to see.

But William bleeding William's blood, caused by someone not Grell was well...no, simply unforgivable.

And some pesky demon had the unfortunate pleasure of realizing just how Grell felt when he watched his superior and close friend get slashed across the cheek, a small gash deep enough to immediately spill forth a small stream of blood while knocking his spectacles off simultaneously. Yes this particular demon was a quick one, but neither reapers realized how quick it was until it sideswiped at William, who jumped back and away from the demon, putting a gloved hand to his cheek and letting the blood seep into the expensive cloth.

“My glasses....” William hissed, almost a bit panicked, and began to hurriedly search for them.

He wasn't sure what had suddenly snapped within himself, but at that split moment Grell turned monstrous, and by the time William found his glasses, adjusting them, and peered through the darkness in front him he heard the chilling wails of the demon.

“Please...please, have mercy!”

“No one makes my man bleed but me. Do remember that when you're rotting back in hell, hussy.”

There was an awful sound that met Williams ears, then complete silence. After a few seconds Grell emerged from the shadows of the night, covered head-to-toe in blood and wearing the most sadistic face splitting grin.

William stood and gave his subordinate a pointed look. 

“I'm not your man.”

And before William could adjust his glasses again Grell had gripped his tie and smashed their lips together in a rough kiss.

 

-:-

Caught.

Suffice to say one spontaneous and reckless urge to shag in a coat closet proved to be a more uncomfortable predicament than one first thought.

“Ungh, Will...your hip's digging into my thigh, love...”

“Here, I'm going to lift you....” a sudden shift, followed by a quiet moan,” ...there.”

“Aahn, W-Will...”

William hushed Grell's cry with a kiss. “Keep you're voice down,” he whispered against the redhead's lips.

“Mmn...mwill....”

It was suppose to be quick romp, and things were indeed getting rather steamy fast.

“Hold on lads! Lemme grab my coat!”

The muffled voice on the other side of the door froze both reapers immediately. Oh damn, those voices...William glanced over to his right and his eyes widened as he realized he was looking right at Ronald Knox's blazer.

Oh damn...oh bloody damn....

Muffled voices became louder. Suddenly the doorknob jiggled. William tensed and Grell closed his eyes at the inevitable catastrophe that was about to unleash.

The door opened unveiling the sideways turn of Ronald's body as the young reaper's full attention was still on his company in the room.

“How'bout we switch tonight? You take the blonds, I take brunettes. Sounds fair...”

Keeping Grell wrapped around his hips with one hand William used the other one to snatch Ronald's coat off the hanger and handed it to the younger's extended hand, watching as Ronald grabbed it without a moment's thought and shut the door, apparently too indulged in his conversation to realize anything peculiar.

It was moments like this that William blessed the fact that his subordinates were so daft.

Both men took a moment to listen, waiting as the chattering faded followed by the door to the room shutting. William let out a deep sigh of relief, his thumping heart settling back into a normal rhythm. That was close...

Sharp teeth grazed his exposed neck, hot breath against his skin. He heard Grell giggle, “I saw that, you sly fox....to think we almost got caught.”

William adjusted his spectacles. “I told you to keep your voice down.” He silenced the smaller man with an abrupt upward shove of his hips, causing Grell to shudder and arch his back off the wall.

Caught was not a word in Williams vocabulary.

-:-

Dance.

On the outside showed a stiff, stoic, quiet man well adorned in a black evening suit, top hat perched above neatly combed hair, a simple black mask concealed his flat expression, black leather shoes polished countless times to the point where one could admire themselves in the reflection. 

But on the inside, the said gentlemen was a complete wreck. 

Mind raced over millions of thoughts, blending into each other with no answer to the previous. A small sheen of sweat shown on his forehead contradicted the chilly night air of London. 

William T. Spears stood outside one of the most luxurious ballrooms of London, watching as the masses of expensive suits and extravagant dresses shuffled up the steps into the entrance. His eyes scanned the clusters, watching, waiting, searching for that one specific figure who could slip past your vision with one blink; who could meld themselves perfectly into any background they so chose to.

Of course that person would choose now of all times to play around with William's head. 

He checked his pocket watch for the third time in half an hour. Honestly, all that rambling about the female etiquette and yet William found it rather unladylike to keep a man waiting...

No sooner than he thought that did he feel an arm wrap through the crook in his own, and in a moment of surprise he glanced over to see a woman occupying his space.

“Excuse me ma'am, you have me confused.”

“Do I?”

Oh. He knew that voice, slightly higher pitched than normal. He should have paid more attention to the fact that his new company was wrapped in a red and black evening gown, one most breathtaking might he add, and that her very exuberant red hair was bundled up and pinned at the top of her head, spilling red curls onto her blush-kissed cheeks and bare, pale shoulders.

Wow.

William peered past the red and black laced mask and the ruby red lipstick to make out the plump lipped smirk and the familiar phosphorescent glow of mirthful eyes.

“Oh. It's you.” He deadpanned, which earned him a light swat on the arm.

“Is that anyway to address your lady of the evening? How rude.”

They began to walk toward the entrance, merging into the crowds of nobles, still caught up in each other's conversation.

“How so certain were you that it was me? All of these masked men, you could have wrapped your arm around anyone of them.”

Grell tsked softly. “No need to be jealous, Will darling. I know that cold sexy stance anywhere.”

“Hmph, nonsense.” They reached the grand hall, watching as the orchestra played and couples began dancing. Grell found herself awestricken at the sight, but she could not enjoy the sight for very long, for a strong arm snaked around her lower back, pulling her flush against her dark, elegant reaper. The position brought their faces close, eyes stared at each other behind the masks.

Williams eyes were positively glowing.

“Enough chat. Shall we?


	2. E - H

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> E-H

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the continuation of my alphabetized one shots! Warnings: since these are comprises of various themes and genres, reader discretion is advised, there will at times naughty themes, smutty scenes, tragic scenarios, and so much fluff you'll choke!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with the makings of Black Butler. All rights go to Yana Toboso

Encounter.

 

Williams first encounter with Grell was at the Reaper Training Academy, where young men went to drown their urges and sacrifice up all frivolity to harden themselves into the stiff straight edge grim reapers faced with an endless profession of bland consistency comprised of soul collection and paperwork.

 

That was what William first _thought._ Until he met a certain red haired trainee.

 

It was his third year, first day of Written class. The students were instructed a sort of “introduction period” of exchanging pleasantries with each other, 'a way to get to know your neighbor' so to speak.

 

William had extended his hand the student second to his right. “I am William T Spears. I look forward to getting to know...”

 

He was cut off by a sharp scoff.

 

“I don't talk to B's.”

 

William blinked. “...Pardon?” And that's when the sight of brilliant red hair caught his attention, eyes traveling from the messy mop of red to the pale feminine face of his scowling colleague.

 

“Are you mental? I said I don't talk to B students.”

 

He wasn't sure how to respond to that at first, and after a quick moment of pondering _'is he serious?'_ William cleared his throat and replied with the only proper thing he could think of.

 

“Then if we are in the same class, aren't you a B average in this field as well? We are fit together by our academic score....”

 

The red head gasped indignantly, shooting William a poisonous glare. He popped his hips and pointed a long manicured finger at the other man. “Do _not_ think I'm down there with you. I'm a Triple-A, you know what that means? It means no touchy, and no talking to me. Understood?”

 

_'Like I'd want to...'_ William grimaced. “I suppose, I hope I did not offend...”

 

This boy was _not_ going to give William a chance to finish a sentence. With a quick twirl the redhead turned his back and practically _sashayed_ away. “Good, now buzz off, B. I need a man who can overpower me, and you are certainly wasting my time.”

 

William, now collecting himself after that rather _unique_ introduction, was just about to continue the opposite way when the flamboyant student suddenly called after him.

 

“Oh, by the way, Little B.”

 

He turned back, a little insulted at the mocking nickname, and shot the other boy an agitated look.

 

His expression was matched with a sharp-toothed grin.

 

“The name's Grell Sutcliff. Please do try to remember that when, you know, you might turn into a man someday.” He proceeding on his way, not catching the angry red glow in Williams face, or the way his fists clenched silently.

 

Oh, he wouldn't forget it.

 

 

 

**=//=**

 

Feline.

 

“Woah as me, it seems I have lost my way. I need a noble, handsome rabbit to show me the~”

 

“I am _not_ a rabbit, I am a Hare.”

 

“Oh...I need a noble, handsome Hare to–“

 

“You've made your point, _cat._ ” The March Hare adjusted his spectacles. “You are a being of both worlds, how can you possibly get lost?”

 

“How can I _not_ get lost? Too many worlds, and only one poor pussy cat. Such a lonely life as mine. A bitter tale of...”

 

The Hare shifted uncomfortably in his chair, having yet to adjust to the lanky cat stretched out on his lap, paws dancing on his chest. He reached between himself and the other to produce his pocket watch from his coat pocket and checked the time.

 

“Honestly, I'm too busy for such useless chat.”

 

Both pairs of eyes watched the clock hands spin manically. The Cheshire Cat grinned his trademark. “ _Someone_ needs to get their watch fixed.”

 

The Hare snorted. “I haven't found the time.”

 

“Jolly good pun, old boy!” Came the cackle from across the long dinner table. The Mad Hatter launched from his seat and onto the table with two long legged steps, twirling arms and long silver hair, exquisite dinnerware flying with his manic dancing.

 

“Jolly good....” muttered the Dormouse in his sleep.

 

The March Hare's brow twitched at...whatever _that_ was. In a single blink the promiscuous cat vanished from sight, yet he could still feel it's presence, pressing closer, phantom sensations around the back of his neck, invisible teeth nipping at his ear, slender fingers ghosting down to cup a very sensitive area.

 

_'Clever feline....'_

 

Hips grinded into his, and all of the Hare's resolve melted like sugar.

 

He snapped his pocket watch shut.

 

“...I know a place, in the forest....”

 

A devious giggle against his ear almost sent the poor March Hare into a frenzy.

 

“Won't you show me the way...?”

 

**=//=**

 

Genuine.

 

Grell stared at the ceiling above, stark naked on top of the bed sheets only slightly tousled, one hand perched on his forehead the other mingled with the lax grip of his lover. His pulse had settled sometime ago, his body still exhausted from the nights erotic activities.

 

Mind too drowned in euphoria to move, he could only whisper to the silent reaper laying next to him. “Will...darling, that was...”

 

He lost his voice to a soft sound, a most foreign noise, which peaked Grell's curiosity, and he turned his head to see his lovers face.

 

_'Oh my...'_

 

Lips relaxed into a soft line, slightly parted as his breath came in calm timed huffs with the rise and fall of his chest. Those cold eyes shut off to the world, allowing lashes to rest upon pale skin. His hair, always so styled appropriately, was messy and wild. _'Like the animal he was moments ago...'_ Grell shivered at the brief recollection. Yes, his William had been a madman tonight, the redhead wasn't sure what could have jump started the man's libido to be so...raunchy. Whatever the reason being, Grell wasn't complaining. Nope, not one bit.

 

But the William he found himself staring at now was not the one who was moments ago throwing him around like a ragdoll and growling like some kind of rabid WereWill. No, this William was...

 

..so vulnerable, so real. His expression was soft, as if for a split moment in time nothing else mattered but the two of them, bodies ridden tired from ecstasy, no paperwork to endlessly slave over, or having to constantly oversee thickheaded subordinates or worry about the soul stealing pests that made work even more insufferable.

 

Grell gasped. Come to think of it, he'd never seen this side of William before, doubted that very many, if anyone, ever had. A feeling of possessive pride washed over the redhead at the thought; he had the pleasure of seeing his darling in a very genuine way...such a gorgeous face. And it was all for him.

 

Grell had to catch himself from drooling. He shifted to his side and propped his head on one hand and watched his lover's expression. After a while his fingers began to twitch with the need to caress that beautiful face, what it would be like to _feel_ that soft expression, to believe this moment real with a single touch.

 

Before he could collect himself he realized his hand was already ghosting over William's cheek lovingly.

 

Which earned him a half lidded double-ringed green iris peaking at him warily beneath thick dark lashes.

 

“Mm..what're you staring at, Grell?” came the slurred whisper from the raven haired man.

 

Grell replied with a hushed giggle. “Nothing dear, just watching my slumbering Prince.”

 

William shifted slightly, mumbling out a tired _“honestly”_ before wrapping two strong arms around the red reaper and pulling him flush against his chest.

 

**=//=**

Horse.

 

“William~...”

 

“...”

 

Grell cleared his throat. “Get on, _William._ ”

 

 

“...”

 

“Oh, honestly...!”

 

“I said no, Sutcliff. Do not make me repeat myself.”

 

“For death's sake, darling, just get on her! She won't bite.”

 

William glared skeptically through the glare in his spectacles. “Bites do not worry me.”

 

“Don't tell me you don't know how to ride one?”

 

The raven haired man scoffed. “Don't be absurd. Of course I know how to ride them.”

 

“Okay? So what is it then?”

 

Another skeptic gaze, but this time at the cause of his concern. “Suspicious beasts...”

 

“Oh for crying out – she's a _horse,_ Will!”

 

“Unnatural animals, overly trusted with such intimate responsibilities for humans...”

 

“We're _reapers_ , darling. I don't think we have anything to worry about. And besides, it's just a _bloody horse_!”

 

“Nevertheless...”

 

The horse chose that moment to let out an excited nay. William flinched back from the manifest of his uneasiness rather harshly, a deep scowl adorning his lips.

 

Grell giggled. “Is Chilly-Willy T. Spears himself scared of horses? How adorable.”

 

With a huff William straightened out his coat and shot Grell a most agitated glare. “I am not _scared!_ The mischief in their eyes; those beasts shouldn't be trusted....”

 

“Would riding a large pigeon be more comfortable for you?”

 

“Cheeky.” William growled, adjusting his glasses and giving his subordinate a _don't go there_ glare.

 

His reply was a frustrated hiss from the redhead from his seat on the horses back.. “William Travis Spears, I am not trekking some 4500 yards across the countryside for a bloody soul because of this fear you have of horses –“

 

“I'm not scared –“

 

“ –hush! These are Charles Frederick Worth's designer leather boots, so I suggest you get on this horse _right now_ , sir!” he shoved his open hand down at William, more forcing than offering at this point.

 

Damn Grell and his fashion. After a few grumbles of hesitation, William huffed and lifted himself onto the horse ignoring the feminine man's assistance. Once he was seated, albeit stiffly, he had no time to adjust when Grell suddenly gave a battle cry and kicked his heels into the horse's sides, sending the large animal into wild gallop.

 

There was no hiding the grin on Grell's face when he felt strong arms tighten around his waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random, I know. These little ideas just pop in my head and I always wonder how it would be Grelliamized? But hey, I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think, I love opinions! :D
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Next Chapter: I – L


	3. I - L

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I - L

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: again, I do not own or have anything to do with Black Butler, this is all merely fanmade. It's all Yana Toboso :)
> 
> *Warning: I feel I must give my readers a heads up, there will be some smut in this chapter :P

Insecure.

 

Grell would flutter around the office in a mass of red confidence, everywhere he went he was sure to leave a smile, grimace, head shake, or wink from whoever crossed his path. Insults would roll off of him like water on laminate, compliments would roar his already ridiculously high ego to life.

 

He would play with Ronald; tousling his messy blond hair, straightening his tie, telling him that he would be beside himself with jealousy if the boy were to ever snap out of his bachelor faze and settle down with a nice bird. Ronald would chuckle back, retorting just as playfully that Grell was the only dame for him.

 

He would blow a kiss to Eric, and with a shake of his hips would proclaim how he couldn't wait until _later_ , and at the gasps and shocked expressions Eric would merely shrug with a brief explanation. “He knows how to do my hair the way I like it, is all.”

 

Alan would receive a tipped chin, two fingers holding the young face up to gaze into painted eyes, and Grell would tut softly and tell the young reaper he should really smile more, that the cute puppy dog face he's always hiding would make a proper girl go mad. With a wink the redhead would saunter off to his next venture, leaving a very cherry-faced Alan to sputter to himself.

 

When it was Williams turn, it was a little different. Grell would swirl a finger seductively on his chest through the layers of his suit, breaking through his personal space and melting to his side, whispering soft promises of the night's events to come.

 

Everyone saw Grell as he was, by now was use to his antics, his pride, his narcissism, his overall reckless show of PDA in the workplace...

 

...yet only William knew.

 

For when the two men found themselves lost in the throws of passion, William would see the truth behind Grell's flashy behavior, would have to peel the pale arms hiding his flat chest, would have to brush the long red bangs away from his troubled beautiful face, unveiling the raw vulnerability that lay beneath the mask he wore everyday.

 

“Do not hide from me.” William would whisper, resting his forehead against the others, forcing the feminine man to look at him. In the privacy of his bedroom, within the security of the bedsheets, the raven-haired reaper saw what Grell showed no other, would die before letting any other person catch even as much as a glimpse of.

 

In truth, Grell was a very insecure being.

 

**~~I~~**

 

Jealous.

 

“Hehe, what brings your fine company to my humble abode, Mr. Spears?”

 

“The slaughtering of Marie Baker on West Harmony Ave. To my knowledge her body was brought here for examination only a few nights ago.” William glanced over the ledger in his hand for the umpteenth time that day. Him and Grell were paired together to investigate the soul's disappearance. After days spent with each lead turning cold, their search led them to one specific mortician with the possible chance the knowledge kept within the old morgue would point them in the right direction.

 

“Perhaps she was....”

 

“Ugh, Undertaker, _darling,_ this place is filthy.” came the disgusted snort from the corner. Grell ran his finger across one of the mantles, grimacing when he saw just how much dust collected on his gloved finger. “It's called a _feather duster,_ love. I sincerely suggest you invest in one.”

 

“Stay focused, Sutcliff.”

 

“Oh yes, I suppose it is a bit unkempt. Hehe, you see, my maid relinquished her services sometime ago, and I haven't found a replacement since.”

 

_'I don't blame her.'_ William thought sarcastically, but didn't miss the mischievous smirk the old reaper directed at his subordinate. Shrugging it off he cleared his throat. “We were inquiring as to see if you had came across anything suspicious in the autopsy.”

 

“Suppose I have, or maybe I haven't? Who's to say...?” Undertaker giggled as he twirled a lock of his silver hair.

 

Ugh, this was getting them nowhere. They'd have a better chance asking a turnip.

 

_Crasssh!_

 

Both men turned to see Grell standing stone still, eyes wide and innocent as if caught with his hand in a cookie jar, scattered at his feet were thousands of shards of a glass vase gleaming in the dim light. William wanted to smack his forehead. “For goodness sake, Sutcliff! Can you control yourself for one second without destroying someone's personal property?”

 

Grell flinched at his superiors sharp glare. “Ah, not to worry! I'll pick it up!” Without thinking he dipped down and attempted to collect the bigger shards, only to have one jagged piece imbed deep into his index finger. He squeaked and pulled back, nursing his cut finger with his other hand.

 

William rolled his eyes. As he was about to continue reprimanding his flamboyant reaper he stopped when a flash of silver and black whizzed past his vision. Undertaker knelt down next to the redhead, a pale boney hand slinking up between Grell's shoulder blades, pressing him closer. “Oh my!” he gasped, wrapping the smaller hand in his own, his face warped in a sincere expression. “Did milady prick her flesh? How awful.”

 

Grell blinked. “Um...it's alright, it's just a...”

 

At that moment Undertaker chose to bring the wounded finger to his lips, pulling the glove off slowly, seductively...

 

...with his _teeth._

 

“...a scratch...” Grell's jaw dropped, pale face turning rosy red. William felt a vein begin to throb above his right brow.

 

The retired reaper then frowned when he noticed the small trail of blood leak down the lanky finger. “Tsk tsk, my dear. You should be more careful. Here, allow me.”

 

And by 'taking care of' he simply popped the tip of Grell's finger in his mouth, leaning more and more into the smaller man.

 

If Grell's face grew any more scarlet William would have thought he'd start whistling like a teapot. He watched, dumbfounded, as Undertaker practically snogged his lov—his subordinates finger.

 

Undertaker finally rose from his kneeling position, taking a brain-fried Grell with him. That sneaky arm holding his back sauntered around his waist, pulling the redhead intimately closer.

 

By now the attempt to cover the scowl on William's face was lost, knuckles clenched tightly around his scythe. _'Perverted old croon...'_

 

As if the retired reaper could read the younger man's thoughts, he snickered and flashed William a wide playful grin. “Hehe, come to think of it I might have come across some interesting knowledge on our poor Ms. Baker. I _could_ share some of that with you...” He turned back to Grell, lifting two fingers to the smaller mans chin and lifted his flushed face only inches from his own, “...for a _price.”_

 

_'The gall...!'_

 

Undertaker pulled back suddenly, saving his neck from decapitation as the divine pruner shot past them and destroyed a small portion of the brick interior. The death scythe retracted, and Grell and Undertaker turned see a _very_ fuming William. Before the redhead could blink out of his stupor he was harshly jerked away from the old mortician by his arm as William dragged him to the exit, too caught up in such a _passionate_ moment between his deliciously jealous boss and the hunk of a mortician to mutter anything intelligible.

 

“Good _day,_ sir.” William said coldly, not taking the chance of letting the Undertaker see how irritated he had made him become. He was almost to the door when an explosive fit of cackles met his ears, and the older man called his name between huffs. After a second thought he paused, and William turned back to shoot him with the most ruthless glare he could muster.

 

“Buaahaha! Oh! Oh! Oh, that was, hehe, that was good! My boy, you have surely paid for your information...hehe,” the old mortician straightened himself, and cleared his throat. “Her neck was stretched irregularly, her limbs disjointed. The smell of soot and graveyard soil assaulted my nose when they brought her in. Also, her skin was severely fevered.. _after_ her death. Sounds like a possession of sorts, wouldn't you agree?”

 

William stilled his breathing and adjusted his spectacles. He had to admit the information _was_ helpful...perhaps he could still be the polite guest he was and thank the old man for his services...

 

Until the _old_ _man_ opened his mouth again. “Beside that, I do have a maid's position opened for~” and before he could finish the door slammed with a tremor through the shop. As William stomped down the cobblestone sidewalk while dragging Grell behind he could hear the chuckles of the mortician dancing in the breeze after him.

 

**~~I~~**

 

Kinky.

 

It was these rare moments, hours after the latest shift had ended, in the darkness of the empty building, the head of Dispatch's office would turn into something much more. The blinds closed off the world to the activities taking place within, candles lit, dim flames pranced manically upon the walls, illuminating the silhouette of a figure in the middle of the room, on his knees, back arched almost painfully by the binding of black leather straps, wrapped around pale flesh; up his forearms, around his thighs, collared tightly around his neck, keeping wrists and ankles only inches apart from each other. Flaming red hair glowed magnificently in the dim flicker of the light.

 

The silence of the night was replaced by quick pants, and the sharp _crack_ of a whip against blistered skin.

 

Timed footsteps harmonized with euphoric whimpers. When the footsteps stopped the blindfold was hastily removed from the bound figures face allowing phosphorescent eyes to adjust to the little light in the room. Grell welcomed his returned vision, blinking quickly in desperation to gaze upon the being behind his torture. A chill prickled his sweaty skin, and he wasn't sure if it was from the cool air of the room or the intensity of deadly eyes staring down at him through rectangular frames.

 

Feather light touches of the whip tickled his thighs, slinking its way up his chest and around his neck, and Grell had to bite his lip from crying out. No, that would displease _him_. He would be punished for letting out such a reckless outburst when not commanded to do so. Who knows, maybe even to the point of being thrown up against the wall and taken hard like _last time._

 

Grell shivered at the memory with a small smile.

 

Which did not go unnoticed, and was questioned with an arch of an elegant brow. “Find something amusing, do you?”

 

The redhead gasped, but then grinned seductively. “Thinking of how loud I'll be screaming your name...” He was cut off by a sharp growl, not soon after the whip draped around him gripped his neck, yanking him forward. Lips ghosted over his own, torturing him, but the slight sting of fear kept him cautiously still.

 

“I did not give you permission to speak.” Those damned lips traveled down Grell's exposed neck, hot breath against the soft flesh sent the younger man's body into a frenzy of tremors.

 

“F-Forgive me...Master...ah!” Grell didn't think his back could arch any further, but _bloody hell_ , when he felt a familiar strong hand grab his manhood, stroking _agonizingly_ slow, he thought he'd break in half.

 

“Gracious,” the deep voice drawled teasingly, “such a glutton you are. Perhaps I should punish you now, before you break any more rules.” In a single blink the whip retreated, with a flick of a wrist the latches that bound Grell's ankles were unlocked and he felt himself being lifted from the ground with no trouble, hands forced his long legs around sculpted hips, shackled wrists clinging to broad shoulders. Before the smaller man knew what was happening he was dropped onto the cold surface of a large desk, legs still bound around those _scrumptious_ hip bones.

 

A single finger slid underneath the leather collar, bringing the beautiful redheads face to look into the equally green eyes of his captor. He licked his lips, anticipating the man's next actions.

 

He loved how kinky his William was.

 

 

~~I~~

 

Love.

 

At first it started off as a single comment. After a few nods of mutual agreement it had grown to a small conversation, and in the end, had escalated to an all out debate.

 

There was something definitely _off_ about William T Spears.

 

“I don'know, he's more... _relaxed_ than normal.” Ronald said as he leaned back in his chair.

 

“I saw a pep in his step just the other day., I swear I did.” Eric nodded.

 

“Definitely less reprimanding.” Alan chimed in from behind his stack of paperwork.

 

That's not to say their boss wasn't his usual cold mechanical self. But over the past few weeks the three reapers had noticed the slight altercations in his mood; his scoldings lacked the malice that made you want to hide in the coat closet until it was over, or how no one has had any complaints about cuts in their pay since the transition. It was... _pleasant._

 

And there was _nothing_ pleasant about working under William T Spears.

 

“Maybe he's retiring soon?” Ronald inquired.

 

“Nah,” Eric scoffed, “he's too young fer tha', and too stubborn.”

 

“That's gotta be it, though. I can't think of much else.”

 

“Maybe he's gettin shagged on the daily?” Eric snickered.

 

“Yeah, that could be...wait, ugh! Don't put that in my head, mate.” the young blond made a disgusted face at his senior.

 

Alan paused in his writing and put the pen to his chin in thought. “You think he's hit the bottle?” The other two reapers shook their heads.

 

“Don't think he can handle even _one_ drink.” Ronald laughed.

 

“Too tight'assed.” Eric added.

 

Their discussion caught the attention of a young woman from General Affairs as she was passing by the Dispatch Department. Upon hearing just who they were talking about she decided to poke her head in the room.

 

“You lads gossip more than me and my girlfriends.” She jabbed.

 

“Hush it, Susan.” Ronald stuck his tongue out at her playfully. “Whatta you know about it?”

 

“More than you boys do.” She stuck out her tongue in a retort. “You mean you really don't know what's going on with your own boss?”

 

There was a string of mumbles and grunts of _'never said that...'_ and _'psh, a'course we know.'_ Men; such stubborn beings.

 

“You silly sods, isn't it obvious?” At their blank expressions she leaned in closer and continued in a hushed tone.

 

“Mr. Spears is _in love_.”

 

There a moment of silence as the room took in those few words, and then suddenly exploded into hysterical laughter with Ronald almost flying back in his chair, Eric slapping his knees comically, and Alan putting a hand to his mouth to hide his chuckles.

 

“Hahaha, she's killin me! Aha, Susan you're a real comedian!” Ronald grabbed his stomach.

 

“Funniest thing I've heard in _decades._ ” Eric wiped away a tear from his eyes. “Heh, wha' rubbish.”

 

The brunette from General Affairs tutted to herself and turned to leave. “Think about it.” And left the giggling reapers to continue their conversation.

 

“Senior Spears, _in love_? No way.” Ronald folded his arms and shook his head.

 

“I wouldn't factor out the possibility though...” Alan shrugged. Eric draped a long arm around the younger reaper and gave his shoulders a squeeze. “Oh, naive little Alan. Don' go thinking such silly things.”

 

The air in the room suddenly turned icy when the trio heard the familiar clicking noise of an adjustable death scythe behind them.

 

“Laying about on the clock, I assume? How typical.” All eyes turned to see the very person of their discussion. Stoic green eyes scanned the room, pausing to give an approving nod to Alan. “Except you, Alan. Carry on the good work.”

 

“Senior Spears, sir! What a surprise!” Ronald sputtered, sitting up straight in his seat.

 

“Hn. I wanted to inform you all that once your break is over stop by my office and pick up your next assignments.”

 

Hold on...that wasn't right. Break would have been over the very second William walked in. He was letting them _finish_ their break?

 

Eric gave his superior a skeptic look. “Hey boss...you feelin okay?”

 

William blinked. “I'm fine. I'm not sure what you mean, Slingby, however your consideration is appreciated.”

 

Hold the _fuck_ on...William was _thanking_ someone? _“Instead of concerning over my well-being, Slingby, I would much prefer you turn in your paperwork on time”_ was more like it! The three reapers exchanged secret glances to each other, an unspoken notion between them. Maybe Susan was right; maybe this stone cold machine of a man had fallen for someone...perhaps he was smitten with someone who could melt that icy persona of his, who could rival that aloof nature. Or rather, what kind of person would fall for someone so bland and detached from emotion?

 

At that moment the door flew open, and in strutted Grell Sutcliff, heels clicking against the tile floor, red hair flowing behind him. “Good day, boys. Does anyone know where—oh! William darling there you are!” He smiled brightly and popped his hips. “Willy, I think I might have broken the coffeemaker again. Could you be a dear and give me a hand?”

 

“Did it catch fire?”

 

Grell pouted. “Just a little one.”

 

“Honestly, Sutcliff.” William tsked calmly and adjusted his spectacles. “This is the _last_ time I'm going to show you how to make a proper cup of coffee.” He turned to walk out of the room. Grell squealed with delight and danced around their boss excitedly. “Ahn~ my knight in shining armor! Such a sweety you are, darling!”

 

Both William and Grell left the rest of Dispatch to their shocked silence. Ronald looked to Eric, who exchanged his glance and then both looked at Alan, who shared the same blank expression.

 

Ronald was the first to find his voice. “You don't think...?”

 

Alan snapped his ledger shut, stood quietly, and gathered his papers. “Please excuse me gentlemen, I forfeit this conversation.” And with that, he walked out of the room.

 

Eric turned to Ronald and shrugged. “Wanna grab a drink?”

 

“That's the best thought anyone's had all bloody day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wow, this chapter was quite longer than the rest of them, and a little more dialogue than usual...heh, guess I was feeling a little wordy :P sorry about the way 'Insecure' ended, I honestly have no idea where to end some of these shorts, so I appreciate your understanding :3
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed! All reviews are welcome! Share with me your thoughts and feelings! 
> 
> And by the way, I know what some of you are thinking. Where's Sebastian? Well, I'm really trying to place him somewhere, but rest assured he does indeed have an important roll in anything Grelliam. You'll see his cameo soon ;)
> 
> Next Chapter: M – P


	4. M - P

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M - P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning: Language, smut stuff, sensitive subjects, tigers.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Black Butler, it ALL belongs to Miss Yana Toboso. :)

 

Mushroom

 

“I see you've arrived earlier than pest control.”

 

William's eyebrow twitched at the comment.

 

“Pity, I would have preferred the exterminators.”

 

“I do not have time for petty jokes, vermin...” William adjusted his spectacles, adding as an afterthought, “and the only pest I see that needs to be exterminated is you.”

 

Sebastian said no more to the small argument, merely giving a hum and continued his attention on the problem at hand.

 

Both men stared at the tree rustling madly in front of them, and for a while neither spoke, one man wincing at every snap of a branch he heard, the other adjusting his spectacles in complete confusion.

 

“Demon,” the reaper addressed the other, “just what exactly am I looking at?”

 

“Lack of self control? A lesson learned? Or perhaps the effects of a poisonous mushroom? Whichever you prefer, Mr. Spears.” There was a hint of humor in the butler's tone at the last statement.

 

William scoffed in retort. “I didn't take you as the type to poison. Perhaps I _under_ estimate just how low you creatures can stoop to.”

 

Sebastian raised a hand with a smile. “It wasn't I who poisoned your reaper. I was preparing my master's brunch, using a very rare type of mushroom imported from Asia. Lethal to ingest unless cooked to the right temperature to boil out the toxins, but served as a delectable addition to any cuisine. One alone could kill a mortal man, I'm assuming these send otherworldly beings into a hallucinogenic state.”

 

The demon paused a moment, and glanced back to the shaking tree. “Your red reaper seems to have the attention span of a wood rodent. To be warned a total of three times not to eat the food and still chooses to do so has me astonished.”

 

“You have no idea.” William simply stated. “Sutcliff, get out of that tree!”

 

Instantly a mass of red hair popped out from the tree branches, leaves, sticks, and cherries sticking out of the tousled mess.

 

“That's Queen of the Cherries to you, squire!”

 

 _'Squire?'_ William gave him a deadpanned look, only to shoot a glare at the demon butler attempting to hide his chuckles from behind his gloved hand. “Don't you have somewhere to be, parasite? I can handle the situation from here, I'm sure your meal needs some tending to.”

 

“I would be elated to go back to my duties, however unfortunately he seems to be occupying my young master's most preferred cherry tree.”

 

“I see.” William adjusted his spectacles once more, and turned back to the tree. “Grell Sutcliff, you will cease these childish antics and come with me this instant.”

 

A sudden violent rustle of the tree sent leaves and cherries falling to the ground, and Grell appeared from out of the camouflage of branches, hanging upside down with the back of his curled knees around a low branch. Long red hair pooled down like a waterfall, glasses falling to stop at his forehead when the chain caught the back of his neck.

 

“Queens don't have tea with rabbits, fool! Now be gone before I send my soldiers after you.” As a warning Grell plucked a nearby cherry and chucked it at William, beaning him right between the eyes.

 

Sebastian let out a burst of chuckles, unable to control himself properly at such a display.

 

William T. Spears, Head Administrator at the London Grim Reaper Dispatch Division, had just been insulted by a hallucinating grim reaper hanging in a tree throwing cherries. William clenched his jaw and snarled. Enough. Was. Enough.

 

With a flick of the wrist he summoned his divine pruner, snipping the branch holding the crazed man in a split second. The red reaper squeaked and yelp, tumbling all the way down, not missing one branch as he fell, and landed on his chest with a muffled groan. Disoriented, Grell picked himself up and looked around in a daze, eyes foggy from the lack of his spectacles he stared at the nearest object to him.

 

“Ah!” He gasped, then swung his arms around the object of his desires. “Oh Bassy!” he sighed loudly, “How wonderful of you to aid a fallen maiden! My dark Prince~!”

 

Sebastian clicked his tongue happily. “Oh my, it seems he's mistaken that tree trunk for me.”

 

With a heavy scowl William marched up to the flamboyant man currently snuggling with the tree, his shadow casting an eerie loom over the other.

 

“Bassy, are you growing a beard? It's so... _gnarled_ and flaky...”

 

“If you are _quite_ finished.” The raven haired man seethed through clenched teeth. Taking a fistful of red hair he dragged the disoriented reaper.

 

“Ow ow ow ow! Must you be so cruel, Mr. Penguin? All I wanted was your glass slippers...”

 

“Stop your babbling!” William scolded, adjusting his glasses with his pruner. “Honestly, when the higher ups find out about this they will mandate random drug tests, which means I will more than likely lose half of you fools. And _that_ means more overtime for all of us, Sutcliff. When we get home I'm throwing you in the tub...”

 

The endless scolding faded off into the distance, leaving one very confused demon butler.

 

Nymphomaniac.

 

William was never a man to be lured in by the temptations of lust or desire. No, he was a clean man, with an average libido, who sought intimate moments in the privacy of his bed chambers if only in the particular mood for amorous activities. He believed the kitchen was meant for cooking, the dining room was meant for dining, and his office was the haven for his punctual and always diligent work efficiency.

 

Papers, books, and clothes scattered the carpet floor of his office. Skin slapped skin wildly.

 

“Ah...uh...oh, W-William!”

 

Body's jerked, skin sleeked with sweat. The large desk shook with every thrust. Deeper. Faster. Harder. Growling. Biting.

 

Bliss.

 

At least, William _was_ a man with such traits. Until a red whirlwind blew through his life, throwing him into beliefs and experiences he would have once guffawed at the very thought of. Years of discipline, of knowing right from wrong, of enforcing rights from wrongs, to be the perfect image of control all scattered by the red storm that was his lover currently panting and skin blushed sprawled on his desk below him, arching with each heavy thrust William exerted.

 

And he loved it.

 

_SLAP_

 

“Ahn~!” Sharp eyes watched the blistering imprint of his hand against Grell's pale rear, losing himself in the passionate cries of the squirming man on his desk.

 

A slender hand gripped his tie – the only piece of clothing he left on other than his socks – and brought him down hard smashing his lips against his.

 

“Mmmngh~.” A particular thrust forced a mewl from Grell's mouth, which William felt against his lips. It drove him wild.

 

“ _Grell._ ” William growled, all senses lost. Heat building. Panting. Hands gripping flesh. Bruising. Grell came first in a burst of cries and trembles, eyes glazed deliciously in overwhelming passion. He held onto William as if his life depended on it, wanting to be as close to the man as possible. William lost his composure then – or was it decades ago? He couldn't think straight – and let the stars flood his vision, body convulsing with all the power of a nuclear warhead being set off in his brain. He buried his face in the crook of Grell's neck, taking in his sweet scent, lips lapping fervently at smooth sweat ridden skin.

 

Minutes later, when both reapers are spent to the point of deep breathing and limbs limply entangled with one another's William tore his eyes from the ceiling to glance at his clock ticking away on the far wall. He groaned inwardly.

 

Three-thirty in the bloody afternoon and here he was stark naked and using the top of his desk as some kind of lust platform.

 

And it was the _second_ time today he had been tricked into an unplanned and random shag fest.

 

Long fingernails ghosted across his chest to his hip bone, and William knew _exactly_ what that meant. He almost let out a groan when he felt the smaller body press up against him lovingly, the shell of his ear being nommed between two plump lips.

 

_'For the love of...again?!'_

 

“Grell...I do believe you have a problem.”

 

“Hm~?” Grell removed his lips from William's ear and tilted his head to look at his lover. “Whatever do you mean?”

 

“I mean,” William cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, “your... _stamina_...is more hyperactive than average.”

 

The red head snickered and flashed the other man his pearly razor teeth. “And that's a problem?”

 

“Anything can be an addiction,” William pointed out, “your addiction lays in... _other_ engrossment.”

 

The flamboyant reaper put a finger to his chin and considered the others words thoughtfully.

 

“So, you're saying _you_ are my addiction? Hm~ I rather like the sound of that.” Grell pounced atop of William, straddling him so their hips ground softly against each others at the impact. Mmm...William had to admit it felt rather good.

 

No! He couldn't let that manipulative seductress have his way _again!_

 

His larger hands clamped around the smaller more slender hands halting their venture across his toned abdomen.

 

“Honestly Grell, it's only mid-afternoon and I am exhausted, and I don't mean from the paperwork.”

 

“Hrmph.” Grell stuck out his bottom lip, and William warred with himself on whether he should gnaw that lip between his teeth. No. He had to be strong!

 

“But we haven't even broken our recooord,” the smaller man whined, wiggling his hips against his superior's. _Oh...._ he was getting hard again. This was getting difficult. But the red head had a point; six times in one day (wake up shag, breakfast, shag on the kitchen counter, shag in the coat closet of his office, shag before Grell had to be sent out to London, a rather raunchy shag when Grell returned, shag on the dining room table, then one shagtastic finale that night). He had to admit after some chafing and muscle ache that was one of the most refreshing days he'd had in years.

 

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt a tug on his tie snap his chest forward, his face coming up to stop only an inch from Grell's. If he moved an inch he'd be kissing that grinning mouth. Grell looked absolutely desirable when he was trying to be mischievous.

 

Hips ground against hips once more, long fingers crawled slowly down between them to grip William's length. Hitched breath, a swell of blood from a reasoning mind to a demanding urge.

 

“You want this.”

 

“Bloody Nympho.”

 

“You love it.”

 

William flipped them around in one smooth motion, giving way to his wants and urges. Giving them both what they craved for.

 

Anything could be an addiction.

 

-:-

 

Old.

 

The entire Division was on a Stage 4 lock down.

 

And William had only been clocked in for two minutes.

 

A bump of a frazzled subordinate running past wildly down the hallway jerked William out of his dead stare at a nearby potted plant burning brightly. He jumped out of the way of the next batch of frenzied employees, throwing papers like loose money down the hall, suits disheveled and shouts of _“what's going on!?”_ and _“this is it!”_ filled the long corridor.

 

Blues and reds flashed all over the office, sirens blaring, in the distance a feminine British automated voice announced the level of urgency over the intercom.

 

Was that a tiger hiding under one of the desks?!

 

In the cluster of disarray and pandemonium, William was able to catch glimpse of the familiar face of Ronald Knox, giving the display an uneasy expression while rubbing the back of his head.

 

“Knox!” William shouted at him over the ear ringing sirens.

 

“Hm? Oh! Hey Senior!” Ronald shouted back and ran to meet his boss.

 

“What the _bloody hell_ is all this?!”

 

“Stage 4, Sir.”

 

“Dammit, Knox. You know what I mean!”

 

Ronald paused for a moment, then looked his superior dead in the eyes.

 

“It's Senior Sutcliff, sir. Something's happened.”

 

Louder alarm bells sounded in William's head, his eyes narrowing. _Something's happened to Grell?_

 

“Where is he?”

 

“Barricaded in her office,” Ronald paused when he heard a rather deep growl from under one of the desks, “been there since yesterday, no one's seen her come out since.”

 

Before he could finish the sentence William was gone. He raced down the hallway, vaulting over a wild flaming barrel on his way, turning the corner he had to catch himself from almost slipping on the soaked carpet from the ceiling sprinklers above.

 

He arrived at Grell's door within minutes, suit soaked _and_ singed, hair wild and stuck against his face. He tried to push the door only to find it difficult with something heavily leaning against it from the inside.

 

“ _Something's happened.”_

 

“Sutcliff!” With a forceful slam of his shoulder against the door he was able to move whatever was barricading the door, leaving him a small space to squeeze in.

 

The room looked like a crypt. Black curtains shrouded all color, red candles adorned every counter top and outlined a morbid walkway to the desk in the middle of the room. Laying on top of the desk was Grell, hands crossed on the top of his chest, hair pooled from the over the corners to waterfall down to the floor. He seemed to be sleeping.

 

“Grell?” William rushed to the desk. The red reaper's face was contorted with dismay, skin paler than usual.

 

“W-Will?” Grell rasped weakly, opening his eyes to gaze around the room as if lost. “Is...is that you?”

 

“Yes, Grell. What is going on? What happened?” William instinctively reach out to grip Grell's shoulder.

 

“Will...” the redhead groaned, “I'm afraid...I'm not much longer...for this world, darling.”

 

The raven haired reaper's chest tightened painfully. “What? Grell, tell me what happened! Do you need medical attention?”

 

“No...it's...it's too late.” Grell coughed, taking his hand to place it over William's.

 

“No, Grell. It's not. I can help you. Just tell me what's wrong.”

 

“A most...dreadful...”

 

“Yes?”

 

“...despicable…horrible...”

 

“What is!”

 

“I...found...a...” Grell's voice began to fade.

 

“Grell!”

 

“...a...gray hair.”

 

“...”

 

The room went eerily quiet.

 

“A fate...too cruel for a beautiful maiden...once so vibrant...to now wither on her lonely desk...ah...ouch...Will? You're crushing my shoulder, love.”

 

“SUTCLIFF!”

 

Pride.

 

William felt himself walk a little taller that day, for no sooner after graduation he was appointed Assistant Administrator of the entire London Dispatch Division.

 

Not many his age could say they were promoted so shortly after the Academy, especially with graduating with only straight Bs. However he was not going to question, only appreciate the opportunity. He was not going to let them down. No, he was going to show the Reaper Association just how great of an employee he could be. Maybe he should get a new hair cut? Or get a better suit? Or perhaps --”

 

“Hehe, gotcha.”

 

William suddenly stopped, following the voice that lead into one of the training rooms of the building. The door had been left only slightly open, enough for one eye to peak into the room. Had this been another day, William would have shrugged and continued on his way, however something unexplainable urged him from his set destination.

 

Quietly, he peaked into the room.

 

About five or six young men from his graduation class, two standing in the back against the wall, one standing tall with his arms crossed and wearing a rather smug expression. What had put William on edge was the hunched over figure of a young lad, each arm in a tight grip of one lad on each side, pinning him down on his knees. Even with bangs covering his face William knew immediately who it was by the mop of red hair.

 

Grell Sutcliff. There was no surprise there; his feisty young schoolmate had a knack for getting into trouble. He only wondered what the troubled reaper did this time to get jumped by five of his classmates. He watched on.

 

The man in the front stepped closer and laughed mockingly.

 

“I misjudged you last time. You knocked out three of me mates.” He clicked his tongue. “ _This_ time I got five.”

 

Grell didn't respond, instead spitting blood and saliva onto the floor in front of the other man.

 

One of the student's holding his arm twisted it painfully, yet Grell still kept his silence behind his curtain of red hair. “Why you..!”

 

“That's fine,” the one in front sighed, “cause you ain't gettin outta this one.”

 

William realized his hands were balled in tight shaky fists, his jaw set tightly. A voice in his thoughts told him to haste forward, to rush in and reprimand, however another voice of reasoning told him there may have been lessons to be learned here, that he should not intervene and instead mind is own business.

 

What happened next stunned the newly promoted reaper and dissipated his voice of reason.

 

“So~ where were we from last time...oh yeah.” The man strolled forward, grabbing the bulge in his crotch and snickered with the rest of the men. With every step he took toward Grell he began to unbuckle his pants.

 

“Time to put that pretty mouth of your to work, _queer._ I need a good suck off.”

 

There was only a second to glimpse Grell's body flinch, and the door swung open with a mighty thud against the wall. There were gasps and exclamations as William strode in tall and carried a heavy air of intimidation into the room.

 

“Be on your way, the lot of you.”

 

“And what'r you gonna do? Piss off, Spears.” The man threw his hands away from his crotch and turned on the new comer.

 

“That's Assistant Administrator to you.” William adjusted his spectacles, not batting an eyelash at the man and instead shot him with a soul crushing glare.

 

From the corner of his eye William caught two wide and shocked green-yellow eyes staring up at him behind red bangs.

 

“Must I repeat myself?” And with that the men scuffled out of the room, the leader of the group sending William a glare of his own before hurrying out of the room.

 

William turned to look at Grell now, expression softening when the redhead had yet to move from his kneeling position on the floor, face hidden once more.

 

After a few awkward seconds William cleared his throat and offered a hand to the hunched figure.

 

“Are you alright? Here –”

 

His hand was viciously slapped away, the figure standing up on shaky legs and a snarl on his lips, but what William focused on was the glossy film of tears threatening to spill down bruised cheeks.

 

“Fine...I'm fine.” Grell whispered, then turned to leave. He paused at the door with one last comment.

 

“I guess we're even now.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaan this is where I stopped lol. I was unable to post this chapter because, guess what? I forgot my Fanfiction password and email...I know, right?

**Author's Note:**

> Would you like more? Because I've got plenty. E-Z to be exact! ;D
> 
> To my readers, all comments are welcome. Tell me what you think or if you'd like to see a word portrayed in a Grelliam one-shot please don't hesitate to request!
> 
> Next Chapter: E-H


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